


The Spirit of Things

by ryry_peaches



Series: Flufftober 2020 [3]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Best Friends, Fluff, Flufftober, Halloween Costumes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26809519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryry_peaches/pseuds/ryry_peaches
Summary: Stevie helps David shop for the perfect Halloween costume.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Flufftober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949071
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	The Spirit of Things

**Author's Note:**

> It's late, and already the 4th in a lot of time zones, but not in mine so this counts.

"We have to go shopping for Halloween costumes."

Stevie barely glances up as David brushes into the office, leaning all over her desk like he owns it. "But you said dressing up for Halloween is for babies, sorority girls, and adults who enjoy the taste of beer," she says.

"Yes, and unfortunately my husband falls into one of those categories," David says, only a little mournfully. "He got us roped into going to a costume party with this guy from his bowling league."

Stevie steamrolls right on past this bowling business with the practiced ease that comes from years of friendship with David. "And you don't wanna do a couples costume?"

David actually, physically recoils. "What am I, my father? Besides, Patrick already plans to dress as some famous…sports person."

"So why exactly are you involving me?"

"Um, because I'm a man in my thirties and I will not be going to Elmdale to the Halloween store to try on Halloween costumes alone, and Patrick is just far too earnest about this whole thing."

Stevie stares at him.

"I will give you one wedge of brie and one bottle of red wine."

"And a box of those focaccia crackers," she counters. "And we're getting lunch at the good taqueria in Elmdale, and you're paying."

"Focaccia crackers and we go halves on lunch."

Stevie bites the inside of her lip and pretends to weigh her options, just to watch David roll his eyes.and squirm. "Fine," she says, finally.

The drive to Elmdale is uneventful; Stevie catches David up on the various ins and outs of their newest motel acquisition — it's a chain of three motels total and two of them turned out to have foundation issues that somehow made it through inspection, and Roland has gone to Toronto to deal with it all himself. 

("We're letting Roland deal with things himself now?" David asks.

Stevie shrugs. "It was your dad's idea to send him, so it's your dad's fault if it goes to shit.")

It's not until David pulls up in front of the Halloween store that Stevie realizes what a truly great idea this is. The ads in the window advertise such costumes as flower child, Pinhead, and, inexplicably, Marshmello, and Stevie's delight increases with each poster she sees, picturing David in each of the costumes.

Stevie can't help rushing ahead of David into the store, and David follows slowly. "Let's go this way," he says, trying to lead her away from the main aisle with its prop displays and into the costume section.

"What's your problem?" She kind of wants to look at the displays. But then she clocks the nervous glance David is sending the row of clown animatronics, and, well…she can't let that go. "David," she says slowly, "are you afraid of clowns?"

"Okay," he says, and drags her by the cuff of her flannel to a rack of Chucky masks apparently a safe distance from the clowns, "You know that I've had a horribly traumatic and very personal clown experience in my life. Also, my babysitter showed me _Killer Klowns From Outer Space_ when I was like eight and it really fucked me up."

"So wait, you were traumatized by the movie, but you still dated a real clown like twenty years later?"

"I was kind of taking a lot of Xanax at that time. Although it was actually prescribed to me, for once."

"Can't imagine why anyone would think you'd need a Xanax prescription."

David is already moving on, though, and finds himself in the "Decades" section of costumes, looking with horror at mullet wigs and round sunglasses.

"Hippie?" Stevie suggests. "Mobster? Greaser?"

David looks green, and Stevie realizes that he's going to be minimal help here, so she flags down the sullen-looking twenty-something employee. "Sorry, how many items allowed in the dressing room?"

The kid raises a slit eyebrow. "I honestly do not care," they inform Stevie with surprising energy. "If you want to steal a polyester flapper dress, that is your prerogative. Just please, please don't pee in there."

Stevie blinks at the kid, feeling a deep sense of kinship with this short, green-haired customer service person. "Thanks, we won't," she says, and the kid trundles off, leaving her to pile costume pieces into David's arms in peace.

Stevie negotiates the right to send pictures of every possibility to Patrick by taking pictures faster than David can duck away from them, and for a short while she entertains herself and Patrick with David trying on various costumes — a pirate, a skeleton, Edward Scissorhands. Finally, he emerges in an outfit that makes Stevie leap to her feet.

"Yes, David, holy shit," she says.

"Obviously I would wear my own jacket —"

"Yeah, and sunglasses, and slick your hair back…" She tries to reach up and push his hair back to demonstrate, and he ducks away. He's wearing a black poodle skirt, a white blouse and a black pleather jacket, and he looks both ridiculous and stunning. "Patrick is going to lose his mind."

  
  


David keeps his costume under wraps from Patrick until the night of the party. It's not until Patrick is sitting in the foyer with his keys in his hand, calling that they're going to be late, that David emerges down the stairs.

"Holy shit," Patrick says, "David."

David is wearing his leather jacket, the poodle skirt, and the white blouse from the Halloween store, and he has slicked back his hair and perched his white framed sunglasses on top of it. He's wearing white tights and his high tops, and he smiles and looks down, embarrassed at Patrick's reaction.

Patrick tugs David back down the steps by the hand and kisses him soundly. 

"We'll be late," David grumbles against Patrick's cheek.

"Don't care," Patrick says, and pulls him a little bit closer.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i'm on tumblr @loveburnsbrighter


End file.
